


International Sibling Day

by E_J_Morgan



Series: Q-niverse AU [17]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Q is a Holmes, Teenage!Q
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:20:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_J_Morgan/pseuds/E_J_Morgan
Summary: Q-niverse AU - In Q's opinion, sometimes brothers just have to spend a day together for fun.





	

It was sharply 9 AM when Q and Sherlock entered Holmes Manor without knocking on Sunday, the 16th of October. They knew that Mycroft kept to a strict daily routine even on the weekends and that meant he had most probably just finished breakfast.

 

They had been right: they found their older brother sitting alone at the huge dining table, sipping coffee and looking through The Sunday Times. He looked up surprised when he heard them come in.

 

“Sherlock, Benedict, what are the two of you doing here? We just saw each other yesterday.” – When kidnapping Bond but that wasn’t something they should mention.

 

“What do you think? We’ve come to celebrate your birthday of course!” – Declared Q with excitement apparent in his tone, seemingly not holding a grudge against either of his brothers because of the unfortunate happenings the day before.

 

“Yes, Benedict here insisted we should spend the day together as _brothers_. Something about making you happy or similar reasons… I couldn’t really follow. It was easier to just give in than argue with him. You know what he gets like.” – Explained Sherlock with a shrug, making it clear that he himself wasn’t as keen about the idea as their youngest brother.

 

“Oh, come on, Sher, don’t be such a spoilsport! It’s gonna be so much fun!” – The boy positively squeaked as he grabbed Mycroft’s arm and proceeded to try to pull him up from his sitting position. He couldn’t move the much heavier man at all of course but that didn’t deter him in the slightest. – “Come on, Myc, time to get up! Don’t be lazy! I know your birthday is actually only tomorrow but we can’t very well go on an excursion on a Monday when most of us” – He shot a dirty look at Sherlock at this point. –  have work to do, can we?”

 

Sherlock replied with a glare of his own.

 

“So far I know, little brother, your task for tomorrow is going to be to prepare for your trip to Paris.”

 

“Only after a hard day of work, you big oaf. Of course I don’t expect you to know what that even means.”

 

“Excursion?” – Mycroft looked a bit afraid all of a sudden. – “What are you two planning?”

 

The newly turned seventeen-year-old teenager rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 

“You really don’t have to panic; I know very well you don’t like legwork. So, no hiking or anything similar to that. Just a day in Stratford-upon-Avon. I saw pictures: it’s beautiful! I’m sure you haven’t been there because you don’t go anywhere that’s not work-related and there’s certainly no one for you to patronize in that historic town.”

 

“Well, it’s true, I haven’t been there yet. It’s actually not such a bad idea, you know!” – The oldest Holmes seemed to think about it briefly then a wide and for once honest smile appeared on his normally always solemn face. – “It’s not a bad idea at all!”

 

Q beamed proudly.

 

“Of course, it can’t be a bad idea: it was mine!”

 

“Careful Benedict, a little bit more conceit and your head might explode.”

 

“And Sherlock really agreed to come along?” – Asked Mycroft, effectively shutting the middle brother up and impeding Q’s possible answer to the offence. That was what he had been doing during all Benedict’s childhood: referring between the two arguing boys. It seemed they hadn’t changed anything over the years. Sherlock, for being nearly 20 years their little brother’s senior, was usually the more childish of the two of them. No real surprise there…  

 

“What else could I have done?” – Lamented Sherlock whining, as if trying to prove Mycroft’s earlier thought about him being childish. – “John is away for the weekend and Benedict didn’t leave me alone until I agreed. I can’t win against him when I’m alone with nobody to back me up. He’s just too _annoying_!”

 

“Where is John?” – It was not usual for Doctor Watson to go away for more days. Possibly because he was afraid what he’d find in the flat when he returned… There must be a limit to how many severed heads in the fridge and mutilated body parts on the dining table one can tolerate, even is the person is possibly the most patient man on the Earth.

 

“He’s visiting his sister.” – Sherlock said this in disdain, clearly finding the whole idea absolutely ridiculous. – “I really don’t understand why he would want to meet her; everyone knows they hate each other. She’s an alcoholic.”

 

“But they’re still siblings, Sherlock! Siblings love and support each other even if the other is difficult. Why do you think Myc and I put up with you?” – Lectured Q. – “You know what? We should call this the National Sibling Day. No, wait; even better: _The International Sibling Day_! A day when no siblings are allowed to argue. When they have to have a good time together. It might even be registered in the calendars from now on. I think it’s a brilliant idea; I’m full with them today.”

 

“Did he drink something alcoholic?” – Asked Mycroft but his smile betrayed his words.

 

Sherlock shook his head almost bored.

 

“Not that I know of. He doesn’t need to drink to be crazy.”

 

“Come on, boys, time for getting on our way. Sherlock was kind enough to offer to drive us there in the car I sto---- burrowed from an agent.”

 

Mycroft gave his blushing middle brother a questioning glance (both of them ignoring Benedict’s slip… they just didn’t want to know) as all three of them got into the comfortable, MI6-issued car to begin their over two-hours-long drive to their destination.

 

**Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q**

 

They arrived to Stratford-upon-Avon at 12 o’clock. They all (even Sherlock) had to admit that it was beautiful: it was the town where William Shakespeare had been born, therefore a big part of history. Q and Mycroft were big Shakespeare-fans and Sherlock… well, he didn’t mind his works as much as other poetry, so it was a good place for all of them.

 

They abandoned the car at the first possible place and continued their way walking through the town. For being already the middle of fall and not the typical summer vacation season, there were a lot of tourists, each trying to make the most of their visits. Funnily enough, none of the Holmes brothers seemed to want to complain about crowds or ‘idiots’.

 

They visited Shakespeare’s birthplace first in Henley Street (‘What do you think it could have been like, living in the 16th century in a house like that?’).

 

“Look! LOOK!” – Pointed Q excitedly, like a little boy as soon as they exited the house. – “There’s the famous teddy bear shop! Let’s go take a look! Come _on_!” – And he ran there without looking back to see if his brothers were even following.

 

Sherlock turned to an amused looking Mycroft.

 

“How old is he again? I think we might have made a mistake and it’s actually seven, not seventeen.”

 

Instead of answering, Mycroft burst out laughing at the sight of their little brother trying – and failing – to reach the top of the hat of the huge teddy bear that stood in the door of the shop.

 

“What are you doing, Benedict?”- Asked Sherlock, seeing that Q was frantically searching for something in his pockets.

 

“I’m looking for my cell… Ah, here it is. I’m going to take a few pictures to show to Paddington. He’ll have to see he’s not the only bear with trendy clothes. I don’t want him to become stuck-up thinking he’s the only one.”

 

“Oh, dear. Mycroft: I made a mistake again. It’s not seven. It’s three.”

 

“Aaaahhh… These are all so _cute_!” – Exclaimed Q for what felt like the tenth time.

 

Mycroft shook his head smiling.

 

“You might be right this time.”

 

“And there’s the Christmas Shop! Open all year! Let’s see what they have!” – With that, Q bolted into it, again leaving the two older siblings to follow. Mycroft was increasingly enjoying himself. He had rarely seen his younger brother that innocently happy and he felt honored to witness this now.

 

At half past one (after they had finally managed with difficulty to drag their little brother away from the special ornaments and different Christmas decorations) they entered a restaurant to have lunch on Sheep Street.

 

“I would like pasta.” – Mused Mycroft, looking through the menu. – “Gnocchi with Tomato Sauce. What do you two think?”

 

“Well, as it is already Sunday and I haven’t really eaten since the party, I think I’ll have something, too.” – Declared Sherlock, then picked Lasagna. “I hope it’s a decent place.”

 

“I think I’ll have tea.”

 

“Benedict…”

 

“What? I ate so much on my own birthday party that I’m just not hungry, that’s all.”

 

“It was two days ago, and you only ate a few bites of your cake.”

 

Q shrugged and asked for Earl Gray with lemon.

 

At the end, even Q could be persuaded to try a bit of Mycroft’s birthday chocolate and raspberry tart.

 

**Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q – Q**

 

After lunch, they walked around in the town some more: they found the Holy Trinity Church, Shakespeare's New Place, the Royal Shakespeare Theatre (and they promised themselves then and there that they’d come back one day to watch a performance) with River Avon, the Hall's Croft and the Mary Arden's Farm.

 

“This is just so beautiful! I can’t even begin to imagine what it can be like living in a fairy-tale place like that!” – Exclaimed Q, observing the scenery. – “I’ve always loved the nature.”

 

“I can’t imagine how. We never went on trips when you were small.” – Sherlock said it in an absolutely matter-of-fact way, without any emotions behind the statement.

 

“I know that.” – Q really did his best not to sound bitter. This was Mycroft’s birthday after all; it wasn’t the best time to be reproachful. – “It didn’t stop me from reading about potential destinations though.”

 

Mycroft actually seemed like he felt guilty and uncomfortable.

 

“But now you can travel. I’m sure your visit to Paris is going to be fantastic, Benedict.” – He assured. – “Then nothing will stop you from going on as much excursions as you’d like.”

 

“And I will. A want to. Maybe you’ll come with me sometimes…? Not that I have much time with the work I do, but still… We can try.”

 

It was a topic the older Holmes brothers had wanted to broach for some time and now the opportunity had arrived.

 

“You don’t have to spend your whole life working, Benedict.” – Began Sherlock. – “You ran away all those years ago from us because you wanted freedom. That’s what you said as an explanation. But as I see it, you don’t have freedom now; it’s just a new kind of prison. You don’t come out much from the dungeons of MI6.”

 

Q felt the need to defend himself – and his job – right away.

 

“I am free to do what I like. Nobody controls me.”

 

“Then why do you condemn yourself to not having a private life at all?” – Wanted to know Mycroft. – “Everyone thinks you’re the next Charlemagne or something like that.”

 

“Sturdy and exceptionally tall? I don’t think any of that applies to me…”

 

“Progressive and innovative.” – Rolled his eyes the oldest brother. – “It’s become evident just by spending a few hours with your lot. They worship you. They think you revived your whole department like a phoenix from the ashes. Literally… And--“

 

“That’s stupid, they don’t---“

 

“Actually, yes, they do.” – Confirmed Sherlock. – “That man… Tanger or something like that… couldn’t stop praising you. It was disgusting, really…”

 

“It’s William Tanner and he’s the Chief of Staff. And he doesn’t _worship_ me.”

 

Sherlock muttered ‘He could have fooled me.’ with a shrug while Mycroft continued as if there hadn’t been an interruption.

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you’d become the leader of MI6, the way they were talking about you the whole evening.”

 

“Hell, no! I’m the Quartermaster and that’s what I’d like to remain. Thank you very much but no. Never.”

 

“Then slow down a bit; you don’t have anything to prove. We’re worried about you. And they are as well.”

 

Q narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

 

“Who are _they_? Just who were you talking about me with? You know I don’t appreciate any unwanted intervention.”

 

“You don’t say? Pff. You’ve made it quite obvious just yesterday.” – Remarked Sherlock without looking at them. He chose to observe the Shakespearian village instead, pointedly ignoring his two brothers.

 

“Everyone, Benedict. Your friends who all seem to like you as family. And it’s fine!” – He hurried to reassure the teenager who had already opened his mouth to protest. – “It’s okay, we don’t mind.”

 

“Don’t we?” – Chimed Sherlock, looking at the display of a gift shop.

 

“Don’t you?” – Repeated the question Q, barely daring to hope… Was it possible that his real family would accept his chosen family and they could even _like_ each other?

 

“No, we don’t.” – Answered Mycroft both of the questions. – “I know we haven’t done a very great job in your childhood raising you but you have to believe: our intentions were always good. We want to see you happy. If that’s where you like to be then it’s all right with us. Just please: don’t work yourself to death.”

 

“All right, I’ll try.” – Relented Q and; feeling that there had been more sentimentality than what either of them could take for a day; changed the subject abruptly. – “It’s just unbelievable that we’re on the same place now where Shakespeare was born over 450 years ago!”

 

The others, sensing that their little heart-to-heart was over for now (not that Sherlock minded it very much), nodded in agreement. They didn’t think the topic was nearly closed but they were willing to let it go for the day and enjoy themselves instead.

 

They spent the whole day just walking, talking and – of course – bickering.

 

“This truly is the best way to spend my birthday. Thank you both.” – Said Mycroft as they were walking by John Harvard’s birthplace (the founder of Harvard University), looking strangely wet-eyed.

 

“So, you don’t mind the legwork you had to do today?” – Teased Q.

 

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.”

 

“Well, as for me, I’m sure I could have spent the day in a more profitable way… but also worse.” – That, for Sherlock, was the declaration of absolute contentment about the situation, both Mycroft and Q knew it very well.

 

They returned to the car feeling comfortably tired. This time it was Mycroft driving while Sherlock stretched out alone in the back seat and sorted through the souvenirs they all had bought during their trip. (“I don’t care about silliness like that but John wouldn’t talk to me anymore if I didn’t get him and Mrs. Hudson something.” – He had explained, though it still didn’t clarify why he had gotten a third item too: beside the magnet with the photo of the town for Mrs. Hudson and the Shakespeare keychain for John, he had purchased a Shakespeare mug as well.)

 

“Here’s your souvenir booklet Mycroft and your fridge magnet, Benedict.” – Q thought it would look fantastic on the board in his office beside the ones he had brought from Stevenage and the Cassiobury Park in Watford.

 

‘I should buy one in Paris.’ He thought to himself. He would start to collect magnets from everywhere he would travel just for fun, he decided. He had already had another collection: the ones the agents had brought him from everywhere they had gone to on a mission. None of them ever forgot to bring him a magnet.

 

It was a fun thing to collect them as just looking at them could awake great memories. He would hopefully soon need a bigger board, or a second one. – ‘I think I might like to add traveling to my already existing hobbies.’ – He added mentally. – ‘As long as it’s not by plane, of course.’


End file.
